


parents ain't always right

by staticpetrichor



Series: ACOTAR prompts [4]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Douchey Parentals, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Part 3 kind of?? to prior college au, Tumblr Prompt, feyre's parents are highkey assholes, feysand, she was wrong, the author thought it was gonna be a one shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:08:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21765808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staticpetrichor/pseuds/staticpetrichor
Summary: From the anon prompts "Sorry but I'm in love with your Feysand College AU and I was wondering if I could submit a prompt where Feyre is really stressed about something? (An exam or family stuff, whatever!) And Rhys has to convince her to calm down and take a break? Thank you!"AND “Threat! Verbal threat! I feel threatened! feels super feysandy!" (dialogue from an avengers prompt list)Title from the yungblud song parents!
Relationships: Feyre Archeron/Rhysand, Feyre Archeron/Tamlin (Mentioned)
Series: ACOTAR prompts [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1429963
Comments: 2
Kudos: 69





	parents ain't always right

**⁂**

Feyre’s fingers snagged in her hair as she tugged on it with a pained groan. Her boyfriend’s head tilted in her direction immediately, a look caught somewhere between concern and amusement on his face. 

“Love. Darling. Absolute light of my life, could you  _ please _ shut the computer off  _ before _ you rip all your hair out?” She scowled, eyes lifting from the agonizingly bright screen for only as long as it took to stick her tongue out. 

Rhys chuckled, a low familiar sound that usually sent a shiver of delight through her but now only served to further her irritation, “Stop that or I’m going to ask Mor to get you out of here.” But the threat rang empty even to her own ears.

“Is she going to take me on a walk down to the park, too?” Rhys asked dryly, stretching his arms above his head in a lazy arc. 

“At this rate she’ll need to find your leash first, maybe lure you out with some peanut butter…” 

“Threat! That is a verbal threat, and I for one feel very threatened.”

“I swear I’ve never met a more dramatic soul,” Feyre grumbled under her breath, attempting to ignore him and focus on her essay once more. It didn’t help that her phone had been going off all morning, something about her parents fighting again. Which wasn’t surprising in itself, but what hurt more than she’d care to admit was that she’d had to hear from Nesta that her mother was staying with Tamlin’s parents until her meeting with a couples counselor on Monday.

She hated that her mother continued to see them, confide in them. Continued to treat Tamlin like a son while treating her actual child like an insolent toddler who had thrown a temper tantrum. Hated that she continued to act like Feyre and Tamlin’s break-up was a temporary thing. She had hoped once she told her mom about Rhys it would drive home the point that they were well and truly over, but it seemed to have had the opposite effect.

Now she was convinced Feyre just needed this “rebound” and then she’d realize what a mistake she had made. Needless to say Feyre had since given up on trying to explain anything to her family. But it still stung to know they were all together and truly thought she would be back with them soon enough.

_ I hope they get used to disappointment, _ she thought with an awfully bitter sort of delight. 

Yet even with that in mind, her family, and by default Tamlin, had taken over her head and left no room for any of the work that needed to be finished. Especially as her phone vibrated again. This time Rhys tracked her annoyed expression and moved from the worn recliner to sit beside her on the bed. 

“Something wrong?” He asked quietly, all trace of teasing gone. 

She’d mentioned her parents latest argument, of course she had. However she might’ve glossed over the whole Tamlin issue. It was less that she didn’t want to tell him and more that she didn’t want to talk about it at all. But she wasn’t going to lie to him.

“Nesta texted. To let me know that my mom’s staying with Tamlin’s parents for the weekend.”

He stiffened at the sound of her ex’s name. A few weeks ago Feyre had finally explained what had happened between her and Tamlin. Had told him all about their less than perfect relationship, the shouting matches that left holes in the drywall and the shattered glass that had collected on the kitchen floor more than once. Had even told Rhys about that awful night when she’d worked up the nerve to leave him. 

She’d damn near made herself sick, trying to anticipate all the different reactions he might have. Pity. Anger, maybe. Or worse, to be told once again that she’d reacted too harshly, that it wasn’t that big of a deal. But even though knowing Rhys as well as she did had put most of those fears to rest, it hadn’t prepared her for the cold rage that seized his features. The quiet, almost pained, way he’d murmured how sorry he was. The tension in his jaw as he’d asked if she’d reported Tamlin.

She hadn’t. It was something that still filled her with too much conflict to be taken out of its box and examined objectively. Not yet. But Rhys hadn’t pushed, simply wrapped his arms around her and told her he loved her and that she’d done the right thing by leaving. Feyre didn’t know how much she needed to hear that until someone had actually said it. And in the end, after hours of heavy, nearly cathartic tears, it was Rhys’ whispered reassurances that finally let her fall asleep.

She snapped back to the present as he reached over and tentatively rested his hand on her own, “I’m sorry,” He offered.

“It’s fine,” Feyre said, because there wasn’t anything either of them could do to change it, “I don’t know why in the hell I care about what they do anyway.” 

Rhys hummed softly, his free hand hovering over her laptop in a silent question. She sighed through her nose before nodding and letting him close it. Wasn’t like she’d be able to focus now anyway. Or get anything worth a decent grade out into the nearly empty document. 

“Maybe you care because they’re  _ your  _ parents. And they should be on your side but they aren’t, and not only is that not fair but it’s also bound to hurt.”

Feyre rested her head on Rhys’ chest before saying, “Sometimes I really hate that you’re a psych major.” 

She felt his answering chuckle reverberate up to her cheek, “I think I’m just stating the obvious, but I’m sure that doesn’t hurt.” His arm squeezed her shoulders gently, “Is there anything I can do to help?” 

“I am kind of sick of this room,” Feyre admitted sheepishly, pinching the bridge of her nose against the headache she could feel forming. 

“Yeah?” Rhys’ thumb stroked an uneven circle on the back of her neck, dipping down to the delicate skin just below her ear. “You wanna go get coffee and bug Cass? He has a rehearsal tonight.” 

“He won’t mind if we just show up?” 

“Of course not. Especially if, I don’t know,” She could hear the smirk in his voice, already knew that some kind of mischief was sure to follow, “you were to call a certain icy eyed sister of yours and convince her to come along.” 

Feyre sat up, the mental imagery of Cassian and Nesta attempting to engage in a conversation (which when it came to them was always either flirtations so strong they didn’t belong in public, or arguments so cutting those nearby watched with wide eyes and slack jaws) too promising to ignore, “I think that may be the best idea I’ve heard in awhile.”

“Of course it is.” Rhys sniffed, “I came up with it after all.” 

“Prick.” But for the first time all day, Feyre found a grin tugging at her mouth. 

  
  



End file.
